by Anita Hughes
“I ran into Raj at the bobsled track,” Adam said, signaling the bartender.
“He hardly lets the models out of his sight,” Felicity laughed. “I can’t blame him. One model booked a heli-skiing trip without asking him. Raj said if she went near a helicopter, he would make sure all the helicopters in St. Moritz were grounded. I reminded him we could have had the fashion show in New York, but he says it will all be worth it. The catwalk is going to be a who’s who of the jet set.”
“He had his hands full keeping an eye on all of them,” Adam agreed, “but we had time to talk. He assured me that I have nothing to worry about. You really did get a concussion, and the guy was the local doctor.” Adam sipped his bourbon. “The blogs made it all up.”
“I already told you that,” Felicity said, and wished the bartender would hurry and bring her drink.
“Yes, but Raj assured me that you were telling the truth,” Adam said.
“You believe Raj, but you don’t believe me?” Felicity asked in disbelief.
“That’s not it exactly,” Adam said uncomfortably. “I just needed confirmation.”
Felicity gulped the whiskey the bartender put in front of her. She tried to think of something to say, but Adam kept talking.
“I came all the way to St. Moritz for no reason.” He grinned. “But I’m glad I did. I’ll be so busy when we get back, we’ll hardly see each other. I’m thinking of adding office support staff and getting a bigger conference room. I might open an office in LA—not immediately, but by the end of next year. Doug has connections there.”
“Excuse me, I need to use the powder room.” Felicity put her glass on the bar.
She hurried across the dance floor and entered the small room. It was only when the door closed and she collapsed on the ottoman that her heart slowed down.
She remembered the first day in St. Moritz, when Katie hadn’t shown up for the photo shoot. Raj had sent Felicity to the powder room to put on the wedding dress. She’d stood in front of the full-length mirror and marveled at the way the white satin made her skin look creamy, and how the sweeping train fanned out perfectly behind her.
The photographer had taken photos of her holding a champagne flute and gazing at the snow-covered mountains, and she had been positive she would wear a similar dress to her own wedding. How could she even think of getting married if Adam didn’t trust her? And besides, Adam was more interested in opening another office than getting engaged.
Hurt and anger welled up inside her. She couldn’t argue with Adam now. The fashion show was in three days, and she should be putting all her energy into making sure the gowns were pressed and the veils fell perfectly when the models walked down the aisle. And then there were the sketches for Bergdorf’s! It was one of the greatest opportunities of her career, and she couldn’t mess it up.
She reapplied her lipstick and opened the door. A man was standing in the corner, and she recognized Gabriel’s dark suit and wingtip shoes.
“What are you doing here?” She approached him. “I thought you were attending a private function.”
“I am. It’s in the member’s room in the back.” He waved at the double doors. “I needed some air. The magician was about to saw a drunken British aristocrat in half.”
“That sounds dramatic.” Felicity grimaced.
“That’s why I left. I am a doctor. I didn’t want to be the one who had to put him back together.” Gabriel looked at Felicity. “That was a joke. You looked so serious when you came out of the ladies’ room, I was trying to be funny.”
“You were watching me?” she asked.
“Of course not. A beautiful woman came out of the ladies’ room, and she looked so unhappy,” he explained. “I didn’t realize it was you. No one is miserable at the King’s Club, they’re too busy guzzling champagne and sweating on the dance floor.”
The DJ played an old Madonna song, and Felicity blinked back tears. Suddenly all she wanted was for someone to hold her. “Will you ask me to dance?”
“You want to dance?” Gabriel repeated. “What about Adam?”
“He’s in the bar, he can’t see us. Please, just dance with me,” she begged. “It’s one of my favorite songs.”
Gabriel placed his hand on her shoulder and stepped onto the floor. The music changed to a Maroon 5 song, and Felicity remembered the first time Adam had kissed her. It had been the night of his company’s Christmas party. There was a snowstorm, and when he took her home, all she’d wanted was for him to put his mouth on hers.
* * *
Felicity opened the door of the taxi and climbed the steps to her building. The Christmas party had been so much fun. A DJ played dance tunes, and there had been Christmas-themed cocktails and a buffet of Kobe beef sliders and miniature pumpkin cheesecakes.
All evening, she wondered why Adam didn’t take advantage of the mistletoe hanging above the dance floor and kiss her. Maybe she had misread him, and he wasn’t interested in her after all. He’d just needed a date to the party, and she wouldn’t see him again.
“We could have taken separate taxis,” she said as he joined her on the curb. “You live all the way uptown.”
“My mother taught me three rules: to always write thank-you cards, tip the doorman at Christmas, and see a pretty girl to her door.” He brushed snow from his overcoat. “The taxi will wait. I’ll walk you upstairs.”
They climbed the five flights to her apartment and Felicity heard music coming from inside. She reached into her purse for her key and noticed a new text on her phone.
“Raj wants me to stay away for a while.” She glanced at the text. “He’s breaking up with a girl and it’s going badly.”
“We’ll wait here together,” Adam offered. “It’s snowing too hard to go to a diner, and you can’t stay out here alone.”
“You can’t wait, the taxi meter is running,” Felicity reminded him. “I can knock on Mrs. Peabody’s door down the hall.”
“It’s after midnight. You’ll wake her up,” Adam said. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“A game?” she wondered.
“Tell me something you love about New York.”
“That’s easy,” Felicity laughed. “When I moved to New York, I thought life would be exactly like Sex and the City: my very own apartment, close girlfriends, and brunches at swanky restaurants in the Village. Then I discovered I couldn’t afford an apartment without a roommate, and my food budget didn’t include brunches unless I gave up hot water and electricity.” She smiled. “I love it anyway. It’s the most exciting city in the world, and I never want to live anywhere else.”
Adam was looking at her intently, and Felicity flushed. “Your turn. Tell me something you love about New York.”
“I grew up on the Upper West Side, and life was laid out as neatly as the intersection at Lexington and Fifth Avenue: private school, followed by Dartmouth and a partnership in my father’s insurance firm. One day I took the subway downtown and explored by myself: raw chickens hanging from hooks in Chinatown, hip galleries in the Meatpacking District, and Washington Square, crammed with students wearing jeans and backpacks. I didn’t want to attend college in New Hampshire; I wanted to stay in New York. But not in my parents’ Manhattan, with doorman buildings and town cars idling on the sidewalk. I wanted to be where there were people from different cultures and exotic foods and graffiti. That’s why I chose NYU.”
The music changed, and Felicity gulped. She forgot that they were standing in the hallway and Raj was breaking up with a girl inside.
“I’m glad you did, or we would never have met. I’m so happy that Raj wasn’t home that night when you came to see him at the apartment,” she said, and looked at Adam. He moved closer, and she could smell his aftershave.
“There’s another thing my mother taught me,” he whispered. “You never kiss a girl without asking her permission.”
Felicity closed her eyes and nodded at the same time. The kiss was sweet and soft, and she kissed him back.
>
“I heard a noise.” She pulled away. “I think the girl is leaving.”
Adam took her hand and led her down the staircase.
“Where are we going?” she asked when they reached the landing. “It’s snowing too hard to go outside.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Adam answered. “We’re going to walk back upstairs as if we just arrived.”
“But what if she’s still there?” Felicity wondered. “And the taxi meter is still running.”
“I’ll take care of the taxi later. First I’m going to kiss you again.” He touched her cheek. “And that’s going to take a long time.”
* * *
The DJ changed songs, and Gabriel put his arm around Felicity’s waist. The lights above the dance floor bubbled like fizzy champagne on New Year’s Eve. For a moment Felicity forgot where she was, and all she wanted was for Gabriel to pull her closer. She looked into his eyes and he leaned down and their lips met and held. Then they pulled apart and her legs turned wobbly.
Felicity raced through the doors and into the street. She kept running until she reached the lake. The air was sharp and she didn’t have a jacket and she was suddenly freezing cold. She hugged her arms to her chest and wondered what she had done.
How could she have kissed another man? What if Adam had seen her? She didn’t do things like that. It was against everything she believed in.
There was a noise behind her, and Felicity turned around. A male figure appeared in the dark, and she recognized Gabriel.
“There you are.” Gabriel waved her jacket. “You ran away before I could stop you. And you left your coat in the cloakroom. It’s the middle of the night, and it’s minus ten degrees.”
“Thank you.” She took the jacket.
“Felicity, about what happened just then…” Gabriel continued. “I…”
“You don’t have to say anything, it was my fault,” Felicity interrupted. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance. I drank whiskey too fast.…”
“Felicity, I…”
“No, really.” Felicity’s heart raced. “I’m terribly sorry. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
She hurried across the path, and didn’t stop until she reached the hotel lobby. There were footsteps behind her, and she wondered if Gabriel had followed her. But it was only the valet carrying some Louis Vuitton luggage.
The Christmas tree was lit up in her suite, and she slipped off her heels. How could she have kissed Gabriel? She had been upset about Adam, and swept up by the music. It didn’t mean anything at all.
She pulled out her phone to text Adam that she wasn’t feeling well, and stared at the blank screen. Gabriel had come after her, but Adam hadn’t texted or tried to follow her. She poured a shot of brandy and took a long gulp. Adam hadn’t even noticed she’d left. He didn’t care about her at all.
Thirteen
Three Days Before the Fashion Show
7:00 p.m.
Nell
THE BELLS CHIMED ON THE hour. Nell watched wet snow settle onto the windowpane. The view reminded her of why she had been so excited to come to St. Moritz: polo players galloping across the frozen lake; the Christmas tree in Badrutt’s driveway, festooned with ornaments; and the village, a collection of wooden chalets and quaint stone buildings.
She couldn’t enjoy any of it, because she was too busy making sure her parents didn’t run into each other. It was three days until the collection, and tonight her father was taking a drive with the Italian race-car driver, and her mother was tired and going to bed early. It was the perfect opportunity to do the things she liked: get a massage, or bundle up in a parka and wander around the village at night.
Instead she texted Raj and said she had a slight cough and had to skip the bobsled race. Raj and Felicity were so good to her, she hated not doing everything Raj asked. But she had to find out if anything had happened between her parents and her grandfather.
Nell scooped up a handful of nuts and tried to recall everything she could about her grandfather. He had been tall with dark hair, and wore a different suit every time she saw him. He’d died four years ago. Her father had always said Alistair was one of the smartest men he knew.
What if she was wrong, and there hadn’t been some major event that ended the marriage? Maybe her parents got divorced because they were tired of arguing. Then all this time spent trying to figure out what happened would be wasted. The fashion show was in three days, and she was running out of time to make them change their minds.
Her phone buzzed, and she pressed Accept.
“Eliot!” she said when she heard her fiancé’s voice. “This is the best surprise. I thought you were still in Maine.”
“I got home last night, and couldn’t wait to call,” he replied. “I didn’t realize covering a Christmas tree farm in Maine was so dangerous. I narrowly missed a close encounter with a bear.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know about it,” Nell chuckled. “I miss you terribly. I wish you were here.”
“I miss you too. If I didn’t have to cover the ball dropping on New Year’s Eve, I would be on the first flight,” he agreed. “I’ll record it, and we’ll watch it in bed when you get home.”
“I can’t wait,” Nell said, and suddenly wanted to tell him everything. “My parents are in St. Moritz.”
“Your parents are there together!” Eliot exclaimed.
“They came separately, and they don’t know the other is here,” she began. “I thought I could use this time to convince them to attend our wedding, but they are both being so stubborn. Perhaps I should give up; your father did offer to walk me down the aisle.”
Eliot was quiet, and Nell wondered what he was thinking. Finally his voice came over the phone. “Do you remember when we met, at the charity luncheon in Southampton? You were in the fashion show, wearing a white crocheted dress and a straw hat.
“That’s not when I fell in love with you, though you looked gorgeous with your long legs and deep tan. It was later, when the valet lost your car keys and you couldn’t get home. I offered to help, but you said you’d figure it out on your own. You slept in the pool house, and the next morning you took the Hampton Jitney to Brooklyn. You picked up your spare keys and took the Jitney all the way back to Southampton for your car.”
“How do you remember that?” she laughed.
“It’s one of the things I love about you,” he said. “You see a problem and calmly think of a solution. If there’s a way to get your parents to attend our wedding, you’ll find it.”
“I love you.” Nell closed her eyes and pictured Eliot’s blond hair and brown eyes.
“I love you too,” Eliot said. “And however you get down the aisle, I’ll be waiting at the altar. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
Nell hung up and paced around the room. Eliot was right; she couldn’t stop now. Her mother was eating dinner in her suite. She’d go see her and she wouldn’t leave until she knew exactly why they got divorced. Then, somehow, she’d convince them both to come to her wedding.
* * *
“Nell, sweetheart,” her mother said as she opened the door. She was wearing a print dress and smelled of French perfume. “Come in. I thought you were at the bobsled races.”
There was a fire in the fireplace, and the air smelled of lamb chops and garlic. The table was set with royal blue china and crystal wine glasses. A bottle of red wine was open, and there was a silver bread basket.
“I was just going to order a bowl of soup,” her mother said, waving at the table. “Then I thought, I’m at a Swiss ski resort at Christmas—why shouldn’t I have a proper dinner?” She sat down. “Why don’t you join me? There’s potato soup, and rack of lamb with herbs and gnocchi.” She looked at Nell guiltily. “And German chocolate cake for dessert. I shouldn’t eat chocolate at night; I’ll never get to sleep. But it’s served warm, and it’s the best thing I ever tasted.”
“I’d love to,” Nell said, and sat down opposite her.
“The
strangest thing happened this afternoon,” her mother said. “Your father called me.”
“What did you say?” Nell’s cheeks flushed, and she tried not to panic.
“It was the oddest thing. It was his number, but he didn’t say anything.” Her mother tore apart a bread roll.
“He must have dialed it by accident,” Nell offered. “When my phone is in my pocket, that happens to me all the time.”
“That wasn’t the odd part,” her mother said. “I could hear voices in the background, and they were speaking in French and German.”
“He’s been shooting a movie in Europe.” Nell gripped her soupspoon. “He could still be on location.”
“It was very strange.” Her mother shook her head. “The reception was so clear, it sounded like he was next door.”
“Cell phones these days are miraculous,” Nell agreed. “I was talking to Eliot in New York, and it was as if we were in the same room.” She tried to change the subject. “It wasn’t like that when Dad traveled when I was young. Were you ever jealous? He went on movie shoots and press tours, and you were stuck driving carpools and watching swim practice.”
“I suppose I was, in a way. Every mother longs for time to herself. And who wouldn’t want to stay in luxury hotels?” her mother said. “I couldn’t imagine what it was like to have your newspaper waiting at your door, and your coffee already brewed.”
“We traveled every summer as a family,” Nell reminded her. “We went to Portugal and Spain.”
“It wasn’t the same. I still had to cut up your spaghetti at dinner, or run to the chemist for medicine when you got a stomachache,” she said. “Then you became teenagers and we stopped going on vacation.”
“Dad must have traveled a lot with your father,” Nell said casually. “That must have been particularly frustrating.”
“What do you mean?” Her mother stopped eating her gnocchi.
“You wanted to be involved in the company, and they flitted off to glamorous locations.” She warmed to her theme. “It must have caused tension in the marriage.”
“I suppose it did sometimes,” her mother said thoughtfully, putting down her fork. “Of course, the worst was the time they stayed at The Little Nell in Aspen.”